Darkwoods Circus- Hetalia
by Raven-Shinigami
Summary: Based off of the Darkwoods Circus song series by the Vocaloids. England (Arthur/Iggy) is starring as Miku. I will remain as faithful to the songs as possible, although for the circus part, it will be a mix between historical info and the song. Also, I can only ever seem to write serious crap like this. Warning: OOC and possible character death. No shit, AU.
1. Steel Cage Prince

**Here is my new story, based off of the Darkwoods Circus song series by the Vocaloids, and me thinking what it would be like, APH-style. Chapter one (this one) is based off of the first song in the series, Steel Cage Princess.**

**I do not own Hetalia, Vocaloids, or the song. 'Nuff said.**

* * *

One must be very careful with their life. After all, one wrong step could lead the person astray, and life is a very hard thing to fix. In fact, one could say that life, once broken, is gone forever…

* * *

Arthur stood, alone, in the darkness. The rosebushes around him seemed to mock his predicament. For you see, in this place he had been trapped in, he could not sit without fear of the roses' spiteful thorns cutting into his skin. Only directly beneath his feet was a clear patch of ground. To sit or fall asleep would mean giving the thorns an opportunity to tear at his flesh, to cut his skin to ribbons.

But he was a mere child of sixteen, and of course could not hold off sleep indefinitely. When he finally succumbed and lay in the bed of rosebushes, the thorns tore at his skin and tugged at his hair and clothes. The pain of the literal "thorns in his side" kept his eyes from closing for a very long time. Instead, Arthur was forced to lay awake, conscious of every tiny thorn digging into him. It was agony. To be there, draped with metal chains, in a cold metal room…

It was agony.

* * *

He awoke to the sound of weeping. Aurthur methodically disentangled himself from the thorny flowers and stood, ridding himself of their painful grasp. From where was that hopeless sound emanating? Gazing up, he saw only the underside of the steel top of the cage. Once he completed a preliminary observation of the room, Arthur concluded that the day brought no change to the windowless cell. The sky could still not be seen from his lonely cage. Already, he missed it. The wide blue expanse, the white clouds, the lovely view of the sunrise and sunset…

But this was his reality now, despite how much he loathed it. This was to be his eternal prison. The Steel Cage King himself had said so. Under a fragmented sky, the king had taken Arthur away and declared that his life and soul were no longer the boy's own.

"You're mine until you die here; you'll be my loyal prisoner. You shall never leave. Now we await the end." So said the king in the castle of steel, filled with the stench of ice cold blood and the decay of many things… And now Arthur could not fathom ever escaping this place of torture. As he counted down the seconds of his life, a faint tug began somewhere in his head.

He soon came to find that if he allowed this tug to take him, he could escape the pain-for a time. Reluctant at first, he eventually discovered that the more he gave himself up to the tug, and the longer he stayed there, the better he felt. But what this particular feeling was remained unclear, as Authur had never experienced it before.

As the days turned into weeks, Arthur began to lose all hope of ever leaving the chains and thorns behind. The cold room began to make him feel more and more exposed as day by day the thorns ripped his clothes and opened scabs. There was never enough time for such scabs to become scars. Every night, always, his skin would be opened anew, and the pain would increase tenfold. The blood that dripped from his wounds seemed to sustain the evil flowers, which in turn kept him alive. Since Arthur was rarely-if ever-fed, he had to turn to the red, red roses for sustenance. It was a brutal existence. Fettered with heavy steel chains, locked indefinitely in a cold, dark room, forced to lie among the thorns of bloody flowers…

The time trickled by like the sands of time, and Arthur could not contain his sadness. At night, he would cry silently-alone-with no small measure of comfort or anyone to lean upon. And the solitude alone pained him, for humans are social things.

But in the the end, they are only _things._ Things to toy with. Things to kill.

* * *

_I sit here, in my cage, the thorns digging into my sides and my legs… it hurts a lot, these wounds of mine that run so deep. And the sun is a thing I have not hd the pleasure of seeing for so long, so very long. This room of mine, a place of steel so cold and desolate; but the roses seem not to mind…_

_Oh, sun! Where have you disappeared to? Please warm my heart with your presence! I need so badly to see the sky once more. Out there, where the free people roam. I wish to be a part of that world again, back when I wasn't… like this._

_But my chains will not let me go, even if the thorns were not here. Why can't I leave? Why am I chained up? Why aren't I happy? What… what is happiness? I know I had it once, but cannot remember how it felt. Also, this place in my mind. I cannot understand why… I do not know why I cannot escape it. Did I forget the key? At one point, was this really my "safe" place? I can't quite…_

So, at one point, this was my happy place, a wonderful haven, right? Oh, I do not know! Was it that I could once control my comings and goings? Was there not once a time when I could be free of all this? I know too much now, and it's making me…

And once I settled in for good, it became my "living hell?" Was that how it was? Dare I say I "wish?"I wish to not be in this place. Oh, would you just feel that thorn once more? To know that you're really there? I feel pain, and therefore I exist. That is very good. Very good. I can still feel this thing called "pain." That is most excellent. How fine! How fun! To really feel! This pain of mine and introversion… _They _are_ me!_

_Time to eat, I guess. Time to eat and pick a rose of blood. I will put it in my mouth and it will be gone forever. But how does a thorn taste, how does it feel, once eaten? I cannot say. Not unless I try one. Ah, sharp thorn. I shall make that, too, disappear like a vanishing act. The pain! The pain! Ah, sweet pain! I feel it slipping down my throat and I cough. No, silly. Don't cough! Let it be, let it be!_

"Don't leave me here!"

_Haha, don't listen to me. I'm spouting nonsense. I'm so silly, aren't I?_

"Save me, save me from this place! I am here! I am here! AH, the blood! AH, the pain! Save me from this steel cage of madness!"

_Don't trust a word I say. Trust only what I do. You see, my mouth won't work right. It says things that aren't true. Just so you know, I like it here. It's nice._

"Let me out! Somebody save me from here! Rescue me! I will never stop searching for that unseen, unreachable sunlight! Don't leave me here to die!"

_Now, isn't that funny? Did I say that? I don't recall…_

"It's cold and dark and painful! Please do not let me die in the cold darkness fettered in chains! I beg of you, save me from this hell!"

* * *

Eventually, somebody came to feed the dying boy. They discovered him lying in the thorns, purposefully pricking his fingers on the sharp points. They approached the cage with a bowl of food-disgusting, old table scraps-and set in on the other side of the metal bars. They turned to leave, but a voice stopped them.

"Wait, don't go. I still have something to tell you," said Arthur. He giggled in a way that made the feeder quite disturbed. "I am a steel cage prince. I am a steel cage prince. see all of my people, I rule over them all. They hurt me but I eat them, because I am the Steel Cage Prince!"

The man turned and let the room. Behind him, the boy began greedily shoveling the disgusting contents of the bowl into his mouth.

"What fine food!" exclaimed Arthur. "What fine food, fit for me, the Steel Cage Prince!" The man glanced back one last time and saw that somehow, on the floor just beyond the outside of the cage, were these words, written in blood:

"But he that dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose." -Anne Bronte

And the man who had brought the food could not suppress his pity.

* * *

**There! Chapter 1, done! I have chapters two and three, but I'll need to post them later, because I have to do homework right now. Sorry.**

**By the way, I used an english translation of the lyrics to help me write this, and it can be found here: **

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**Just get rid of the spaces. Anyways, I sort of just grabbed some direct lines from here, so make sure to check it out!**

**No, I don't hate England. Actually, I love him. Which is why I can't resist putting him in god-awful situations. I can only write dark fan fiction. I'm sorry.**


	2. White Doors and White Rooms

**Well, here ya go. Chapter 2.**

**Okay, originally, chapter 2 was chapter 2. Then, it became too long and I had to split it up into chapters 2 and 3. Notice a pattern here? Hint: My story ****_HetaOni- The Aftermath_****. There, I gave you the answer.**

**I DON'T OWN THE IDEA/PLOT OF THE STORY, THE CHARACTERS, ETC.**

* * *

Arthur awoke in a clean room of pure white. There was light in the room, more light than he'd experienced for a while.

_That's funny, _he thought to himself. _Where did my steel room go? Oh, well. This is new. This is a funny trick they have played on me. This is fun._

He sat up, briefly registering the fact that he was on a small white cot, rather than the customary rosebushes. Arthur also found that he was wrapped up in bandages. Quite unnecessarily, though. After all, he hadn't been hurt badly. Gazing around the room, he spotted a door with a window. A window! A glorious window, at last! Fast as he could, Arthur brought himself over to the door. He had to lean against the wall and hobble along (for he had not made use of his legs for some time), taking a quick rest every foot or two. Needless to say, he it was slow progress. However, the speed didn't bother him at all. After all, he didn't have anything else he needed to accomplish anyways, despite how much he was hurrying. He just wanted to take a peek outside of the room he was in. Arthur finally reached the door, but, to his dismay, he found the small square window just a little too high for him to see out of.

_What a shame. And I was having so much fun, too._

Arthur reached his arms to the window frame and attempted to pull himself up to look out, but his arms had grown too weak during his stay in the steel cage of his. Sighing inwardly, he tried again. Several failed attempts later, he resigned himself to not looking out of the window. However, he decided to try every day, so that maybe he would eventually be strong enough gaze outside of his little room.

For the time being, however, he went and sat in a corner of the room. He had not known such a place for a while. A place with light,a bed, and without his-yes, _his_-rosebushes. He would need to decide what to do next. Not that there were a great many options left to him at this point.

In the end, he rested in bed, reflecting on many things, including how he'd gotten there in the first place. But he supposed it didn't really matter, right? Although, he _did_ miss his steel cage…

Several hours later, a tiny flap at the bottom of the door opened and a plate of food was slid in. Following that was a glass of clear water. Arthur roused himself from the cot and crawled over to the door. As he enjoyed the extravagant meal, he wondered what would happen when he had to use the lavatory. Perhaps he'd be brought somewhere after he was done eating.

He was right. But not quite.

* * *

Arthur woke up in a different room. It was white, just like his own room. There was a bright light hovering just above him. For some reason, there was a sharp pain in his skull. It was very pleasant. Squinting, he wondered if maybe he was dead. People often said that when you died, you went to "the light." But the light wasn't getting any closer to him, nor was it receding.

_How strange. I don't recall coming in here… Just as I had no recollection of how I hd gotten to _my_ white room. But it's so fun! So I don't mind._

Then, the pain in his head increased, and Arthur laughed. He could feel his blood flowing into his hair and down the sides of his head. Ah, the pain! How fun it all was!

_This is an interesting game. I love it! The enthusiasm is…_

Arthur never got to complete his thought. As the pain reached its zenith, a white-hot pain flashed behind his eyes. Then, nothing.

* * *

When he next regained consciousness, Arthur was being wheeled down a white hallways in a strange little cart. Examining the container he was in, Arthur found a cute little black skull with a white teardrop coming from its eye painted onto it. He thought it was quite intriguing. However, his attention span lapsed and he found himself looking behind him at the person wheeling the cart. Interestingly enough, their mouth was stitched shut. Even more interestingly, though, was that he could never seem to focus on the rest of the man's face. Whenever he tried, his gaze just slipped off.

_These past weeks have been full of surprises! I look forward to more!_

Arthur felt a smile creeping up on him. How odd. He had not smiled for quite some time. At least, Arthur didn't think so. Although he _had_ smiled when he giggled that one time. But that was not so important. The smile was showing, whether he liked it or not. He was still looking up at the man pushing him along, and he noticed their stitched mouth turn down as he smiled at them. Why did he _insist_ on frowning when Arthur had graced them with his princely smile?

Arthur turned and faced from again. Hm, now that he came to think about it, turning his head felt different now. He decided to investigate later, when he got back to his room. After that, Arthur sat in the cart limply as he was wheeled down a seemingly infinite amount of halls. Trying to keep track of all the twists and turns made his head spin, so he eventually just stopped trying. All the while, the mysterious man pushing the cart along remained silent, and Arthur dared not look back again, for fear of receiving another frown.

He never once considered escape. Not seriously, anyways. Despite the situation-only one person present, no shackles, anode many hiding places (for there were many doors)-Arthur knew that he'd never make it. After all, he'd barely made it to the door in his room, never mind attempt escape. Then again, he didn't really want to leave was just too much fun.

_Although,_ he supposed. _Maybe if I escape and hey come after me, I'll get ore thrills out of it. Maybe I'll even get to hurt them, whoever_ they_ are. However, it would be more prudent to first be able to walk again before trying to escape. In the meantime, I will look for more fun things!_

As he was wheeled back towards his room, Arthur looked left and right, truing to catch glimpses of things beyond the windows on the doors lining the halls. Unfortunately, no matter how much he craned his neck, he could not discern anything. It was rather disappointing, to say the least. However, Arthur was not all too worried about that. Greatly disappointed, sure, but it wasn't too big of a deal anyways. He would probably have plenty of time to explore later. Or so he hoped.

After a long while, Arthur was deposited in his room. Immediately, he began investigating what the strange feeling in his head had been. It only took him seven seconds to figure it out.

He had a giant metal spring sticking out of his head.

* * *

In the morning (at least, he assumed it was around that time), Arthur discovered food at his door. He slowly made his way over to it and gulped it down quickly. Once again, Arthur attempted to look out of the small window. Again, he failed. But he promised himself that he would try over and over again until he succeeded.

For most of the day, Arthur practiced walking from one side of the room to another. He fell often, but slowly began to walk more steadily. Lunch break, then more practice; he was determined to learn how to walk again. Strangely, though, he would sometimes think he heard faint music playing. As he strained his ears, however, the melody disappeared. It was all very strange.

After dinner, he was brought from his room to a bathroom. Following this, Arthur was returned to his room. Collapsing upon the cot, he drifted off to sleep, and dreamt of music notes dancing around him, playing a melody that always managed to slip in between his fingers despite how hard he grasped…

The next few days were uniform in almost every way, with the only difference being the increased volume of the music. Arthur still did not know what it meant, but didn't exactly question it. The music was simply there.

* * *

**Wow, he almost seemed normal sometimes, didn't he? Well, that's how it is. Allow me to explain something to you. **

**You see, for me, I categorized madness into three parts: early, middling, and late. In the early madness, Arthur is slowly losing his sanity but manages to hold on to his reasoning and intellect (which resurfaces again in the late madness). In the middling madness, he seems completely insane, and his condition is perpetually obvious. He does not often use his logical mind. These two parts of the cycle occur in chapter 1. Now, in this chapter, he is experiencing the "late madness." In this, he seems almost normal sometimes. However, he is very unstable and the slightest things can make him snap. He can use his head, but often does not. He prefers the insanity to reason.**

**Also, the reason he couldn't see the scientist with the stitched mouth's face was because of himself. That is to say, nothing was weird about the scientist. What was weird was Arthur's mind. He simply thinks of that scientist (who he doesn't know is a scientist) as the Stitch-Mouth-Man. His brain processed the stitched mouth and determined that that was all he needed to know. And so then it blocks all new information it receives about the man's appearance. After all, it knows about the stitches on the guy's mouth. What more does his mind need to know?**

**Anyways, how did you like this chapter? Please review!**


	3. The Song of Insanity

**Chapter 3. Woot woot.**

**Much thanks to editor Clovy for helping me… edit. Edit shit and stuff. She is pushing me especially hard on this one. Though perhaps that's just because she's desperate to know what happens next. I forget to mention this a lot, but editor Clovy helps me catch lots of stuff. Like spelling errors. Remember ****_HetaOni- The Aftermath_****? Well, she helped me correct big things like changing "pancaked" to "pancakes" and other important things like that. She taught me that, no, "adn" is ****_not_**** an acceptable way of spelling "and." Also, she just pushed me. Really, really hard. She pushed me to write faster, write more, to show her my next chapter for editing. Okay, not really. But it felt like that.**

**Note: continuation of the song Wide Knowledge of the Late Madness by Miku. Not technically part of the series (of songs), but the story is part of it. That's why I needed to have these chapters (2 and 3).**

**Still don't own any of this stuff. Except the actual writing of this. Please, this is the ****_last time_**** I say this. I hate having to put obvious disclaimers at the beginning of every chapter. So, just to make it clear, FANFICTION WRITERS OBVIOUSLY TO NOT OWN WHAT THEY ARE WRITING ****_FAN FICTION_**** FOR.**

* * *

After much effort, Arthur had managed to raise his eyes to the window. It had taken some time to build up enough strength, but he had finally managed the difficult task. The sight that greeted him was very plain, yet so very extraordinary. He did not often get to peer beyond the confines of his room, so this was a rare treat. Outside in the hallway was a long, white hall. Doors lined either side of it. They, too, were perfectly uniform in their pure color.

As he gazed out of his window, Arthur saw movement from a different one. A hand's shadow became visible, framed beautifully by the window frame. The shadow darkened as the hand pressed against the reinforced glass and slid down its surface. Arthur laughed, for that was such a happy sight to see!

_Tee-hee-hee! How marvelous! How wonderful! This is all so merry, yes indeed! Yes, indeed…_

At that moment, the music began to play again, this time with discernible words. Gently, the blond boy let himself down to the floor and went to sit on his cot. The music grew louder and clearer still.

_Once, one day, deep inside_

_A white room, I confide_

_So always, all the time_

_They keep me here to stay…_

Then, the song faded away. Arthur smiled. How fitting. That music; it was so perfect. It was all his. Only his, and no one else's. The music for his ears alone.

* * *

In the morning, Arthur visited the lavatory that had been recently added (once he had taught himself to walk again). Afterwards, he ate breakfast and went back to the door. Pulling himself up, Arthur peeked outside. The scene today was different than that of yesterday. Today, there was a window filled with beautiful red flowers. A bit of liquefied flower dripped down on the outside of the door. This amused Arthur for some time, and he dutifully watched the descent of the flower to the floor.

He really missed his roses…

Refocusing his attention on the pretty red window on a pretty white door, Arthur noted with dismay that the flowers were being licked off of said window. Then, a face became partially discernible behind the thin red coat covering the inside of the window. They had brown-blond hair, blue eyes, and, most intriguingly, a spiked blue dog collar. But the face was there for only a brief time before grinning (revealing sharp, pointy teeth) wickedly at Arthur and disappearing from view.

Arthur thought on this for only a few seconds before his attention wandered and he began thinking about all the pretty hallways and white doors. After some time, he went back to his cot and lay down on its surface.

And then the music seemed to pick up where it had left off the previous day.

_Pretty white rooms, many white doors_

_Pretty white halls, and endless corridors_

_And every night, one person leaves_

_One by one, they all go before me…_

* * *

The next day, Arthur witnessed several things while peering out of his small window. A boy of fourteen was taken from a room on the right side of the hall and brought away, only to return several hours later in a cart much like the one Arthur had been transported in that one time. Then, after the man with the stitched mouth and unseeable face went to another door on the right side of the hallway. A boy identical to the last one was brought out. Like the first boy, he had brown hair of a middling shade and an eye color that matched. Also like the first boy, he was asleep, so the Stitch-Mouth-Man had to carry the child down the hall and out of sight. He, too, was returned to his room several hours later. Arthur did not watch the hall for the full stretch of time, though. Instead, he waited until he heard footsteps in the hall. Then, he boosted himself up and watched.

This boy had also been brought back in a Crying-Skull-Cart, but unlike both the other boy and himself, this brown-haired child was unconscious. On his back was a metal thing, like that of an old-fashioned wind-up toy. Arthur was glad to be able to see the alteration made to this boy, for he hd not glimpsed the one of the other boy. Now, he was fairly certain he knew what had happened to the other boy as well, because the two were identical. Surely identical changes would be made to them.

After his daily viewing session, Arthur retired to his cot, expecting the song to continue. It did.

_Beautiful flowers bloom_

_Vividly stained in red_

_In one room, they all bloom_

_In a single flower bed… _

By now, Arthur had discovered a pattern to this song. It would continue only on an eventful day, and would first tell of previous events. Then, the second half of the new bit would show a bit of the further.

It would be several days before the song continued.

* * *

Arthur was-no surprise-gazing once again out at the hallway. For the most part, it had been uneventful, but he was hoping for some more interesting things to happen. After all, it had been a while since anything had happened. It was about time for anther Event to happen.

_Ooh, I can't wait for the show! I can't wait for it to start! I absolutely adore the theater! Yes, yes, how I do, I do, I do! I do enjoy a good show!_

He was patient. He waited for hours. But still, nothing happened. Habitually, Arthur played with the spring in his head. Until he hear it. Footsteps.

Rushing back to the window, the boy hoisted himself back up and watched the Stitch-Mouth-Man come. This was good, because although people came to bring him food, the Stitch-Mouth-Man only came on the day of an Event.

The man reached the door on the right and escorted the first boy away. Arthur took great pride in noticing that he, too, had a piece of metal for a giant wind-up toy on his back. It came as a surprise to Arthur when the Stitch-Mouth-Man returned only ten minutes later, and without the boy. Where had the boy gone? Then, the second boy was taken out of his room. His arms were wrapped together behind him with thick layers of gauze. It was odd, though not unthinkable.

On his way down the hall, the boy noticed Arthur watching. The brunette flashed a deranged smirk at the blond boy. For some odd reason, there was something… off about this gesture. Something uncharacteristic about it. But no. Arthur knew nothing about his boy.

So why did this feel _wrong_ somehow? Arthur did not dwell on this long, though, as the song continued down its path.

_Pretty sphere, rolls down from here_

_From the top of a hill_

_Pochi really loves to eat_

_Very much, very much doesn't he…_

Arthur fell asleep that night wondering who Pochi was, and, more importantly, what he loved to eat.

* * *

For a long time, nothing notable occurred. The Stitch-Mouth-Man did not make an appearance, nor did any other event of importance. It seemed the Arthur as though "fun" itself had abandoned him. That is to say, life was boring. In fact, Arthur was considering escape as a possible course of action when the Stitch-Mouth-Man came back down the hall, leading a seventeen year old boy by a blue leash.

_Wait. Isn't that the boy from the Red Flower Room? When was he taken? How did I miss it?_

Arthur was quite confused by this, for her normally stayed alert, listening for any sign of footsteps. But, he realized, the _did_ sleep. It must have occurred while he slept.

The boy, meanwhile, was led into his room, cajoled there with a strip of fresh meat. After the boy was locked in his room, the Stitch-Mouth-Man left.

That night, Arthur heard The Song. But this time, it did not follow the normal pattern of past, past, future, future.

_And tomorrow, it is my turn_

_Yes, tomorrow, I really want to go_

_And tomorrow, it is my turn_

_Yes, tomorrow, I really want to go_

Tomorrow… was his turn? For what?

Maybe… maybe another game. Like the metal spring. A slow smile spread across the boy's face. He really _was_ looking forward to tomorrow.

All he had to do was be patient. And patient, he could do. After all, he had waited long enough for an Event. How hard could if possibly be to wait a little more?

It as a thing easier said than done.

* * *

Arthur was happy. So, so, so happy. It was done! Oh, the deed the done, the pain was there, and he was now complete. The pain of the game was at first excruciating, but he had toughed it out. In the end, there had been satisfying results. Glancing down at his new legs, he shivered excitedly. He couldn't wait to walk on them! Unfortunately, he had to wait until he was let out of the cart to try them out. Fortunately, he could still do something else. His spring had been exchanged for a curly horn, and he loved playing and futzing with it, even if it _did_ cause some measure of additional pain. Overall, though, he felt fine. Perfectly fine and happy. Things had finally gotten more _exciting._

It wasn't until much later did he find that his legs could barely hold his weight. Arthur cried without cease for several long hours. He had begun to realize…

Too late.

* * *

**Let me make it clear to you what happens at that bit when the Stitch-Mouth-Man comes and takes away the identical twins. He first brings them to the Operating Room and, using a chainsaw, cuts off their heads. He puts them on a pile of body parts and brings in Pochi, the dog-person (they had their brain switched with a dog's). They had Pochi choose body parts to Frankenstein together. Pochi chose a body and the first boy's head. Then, the scientist's lunch break was coming up, so he threw the second twin's head on the pile and ran to lunch. The head rolled down off the pile, and Pochi chose it, picking it up in his mouth and bringing it over to the corner of "chosen" body parts (Pochi helped choose because he had been told that if he did, he'd get to eat the unused body parts; dogs can understand that much, right?). Anyways, let's just say that unlike England, the twins, and Pochi, many other children in the asylum who were experimented on didn't make it. That is to say, they died.**

**Alright, so. Song lyrics from here: **

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**Actual song by Miku.**

**Reason why I didn't have the "watashi, watashi, watashi" bit in here is because he heard it during the operation. Which I conspicuously didn't add.**

**You may have noticed that I repeat several words/ideas consistently throughout chapters 2 and 3. This is because he is insane. His thoughts like to go in circles, okay?**

**The next chapter will have him (and several others) getting sold to the freak show/circus. Arthur's name will change. Why? Well, let's see when certain names are applicable. Arthur: before the asylum; Iggy: nickname because circuses; Igirisu: because because. If you've heard the song series, you'll know when this comes into play. So, yeah. Reviews sustain me. Also sweets, but that's irrelevant.**

**No, I don't hate on any of the characters I write about unless specifically mentioned. I can't write anything but dark fics. Get with the program, people. Don't come to me if you want something light and happy. 'Cause you ain't getting anything.**

**On that note, please enjoy my suckish fan fiction, and pray that I will not come out with the next chapter for some time.**


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